Irrelevant Information
by WikketKrikket
Summary: 2 parts, angst followed by humour Kyouya's had an accident that has left him hurting badly. But as badly as it hurts him, it's hurting those that care for him. They might have to imagine life without him. Part two summary inside
1. Part One: Lost

A/N: Hello hello! Welcome to Irrelevant Information, the killer one-shot. Well, it was _written _as a one-shot. It has been split in two for two good reasons; the first being that no-one in their right minds would thirty-seven pages as one chapter. XD The second reason is that more-or-less half way through the mood changes _entirely _from angst-ridden to humour and light-hearted romance. Therefore, I've ended this chapter in such a place that it will read perfectly fine alone for all those people out there who like angst and don't want my humour ruining it. XD Summary for part two is at the bottom, anyway.

Disclaimer: Evidently, I don't own.

Irrelevant Information

Part One

_An ordinary day, for certain, apart from the fact Kyouya could almost relax. The club was in full swing, but he had no designators, and was sitting quite contentedly letting the club go on around him. The others had to behave themselves when the ladies were around, that much was sure, and couldn't do anything too disastrous when he was in the same room to intervene. Of course, he couldn't_ quite_ relax, because he had to work. Tapping away at the mysterious documents that no-one else knew the contents of, he almost didn't notice her approach._

_"Kyouya-senpai…" A soft, whispering voice came. He looked up at her, showing none of his annoyance at the interruption, and smiled elegantly._

_"Hello, there. Are you here to designate?"_

_She smirked at him. It was a cold smirk, almost amused. She tilted her head sideways. "What do you think I'm here for?"_

_Kyouya frowned slightly, but then smoothed his face over. "Alright… is it my attention you desire, or one of the others?"_

_"You'll do." She answered, sitting down in the seat opposite him. "After all, you're limited edition, right?"_

_"Excuse me?"_

_"Well, you won't be around very much longer, will you?"_

_"I assure you, I'll always be here… at least until graduation, of course."_

_She closed her eyes, laughing softly. "You don't realise, do you, Ootori Kyouya? You really don't get it…"_

_"I'm afraid not." Kyouya admitted, playing along._

_"Heh. You will." She stood up and grinned at him again. "You're dreaming, Kyouya. And you're not going to wake up." She moved over to him, putting a hand on his face, moving it down his side to his hip. "Yes…" She muttered. "I think you'll be here a long time…" She giggled to herself, and left abruptly. Kyouya, unfazed, merely thought what an odd girl she was and continued with his work._

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Tamaki ran, pounding through the corridors, the only reason to retain his speed so he could read the numbers on doors as he zoomed past them. This was absurd. Impossible. Yet… he ran. On and on.

"Tamaki-senpai!" Haruhi's voice came from behind him somewhere. "Not so fast!" She was running too, they all were, but her shorter legs could not keep up with his panicked strides. He grabbed her hand and pulled her along, not slowing down for anything. Then, he stopped. The door was before them. He threw it open.

Glistening eyes looked up at them, all of them, huddled in the doorway. His sister.

"Tamaki-kun…" She mumbled, not sure what to say.

"Is he…?"

"I'm not sure. They say he's 'comfortable'. I don't know what that even means, really…"

"Kyou-chan…" Honey sniffled miserably from somewhere atop Mori's shoulders, as the whole lot of them peered over each other's shoulders at the figure in the bed. This was ridiculous. Unthinkable. It couldn't be Kyouya in that bed, beneath all the wires, a mask on his face, machines attached to his chest; face so pale beneath the dark hair, eyes closed. Kyouya did not have accidents. It was that simple. Yet…

They shuffled into the room a little further. It was a tight fit, with six members of the host club, Kyouya's parents, his brothers and his sister. Luckily, numbers were about to deplete.

"We have to go to work." His father said, abruptly, leaving the room. His wife and sons followed. Only Fuyumi remained, and she looked after her family, biting her lip, before gazing back at the floor. There wasn't, she supposed, much else they could do. She turned to the guests, doing her best to smile.

"And this must be the rest of the Host Club!" She said, bravely. "I'm sorry we couldn't meet… under more pleasant of circumstances… Thanks for coming."

Haruhi was about to answer that they'd been hardly likely to stay away after that call Tamaki had received just before school, but couldn't quite bring herself to. Somewhere inside, some small, weaker part of her was wishing she hadn't come. This wasn't right. She didn't want to see Kyouya like this, or anyone else. He never relied on anyone for anything… how could she take it now he was relying on a mask, some wires, a screen that beeped just to survive? It was just… wrong.

Tamaki swallowed. "What's the damage?" He asked, eventually. "Where was he hurt?"

"All over. But… the worst damage was down his right side. He's smashed his hip to pieces, the silly boy. And… one of his ribs broke. It collapsed his lung. They think they've fixed it now, though."

Tamaki nodded. No-one else said anything. Haruhi had to admit, she was amazed that he was dealing with it so well. She'd expected blind panic, tears, something. Not this… lack of response. He seemed so scared.

"You've done it this time, Kyouya." He said to his unresponsive friend, forcing laughter. "Making everyone worry like this…"

Hikaru snorted and spoke at last. "If it was Haruhi, he'd add to her debt everyday she missed hosting." The comment raised a few smiles, but they were fleeting, and didn't really last.

"Ootori-san…" Kaoru said, afterward. "None of us are doctors. All those… things. He's going to recover, right?"

"Of course." She said, smiling. "It _is _Kyouya, after all."

But Haruhi knew those smiles. Some of her earliest memories were of those smiles. From doctors, from her father, even from her mother. Each one assuring her she'd be fine. The doubt was there, but she said nothing. If there was anyone in the room who hadn't noticed, let them keep their hope.

And, after all, it _was _Kyouya.

No-one said very much after that. No-one really had much to say. But they stayed, and they waited, and they were there as the hours wore on.

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_"Kyouya-senpai." That voice again. The girl was in front of him, and leant over the desk, resting her head in her hand. She pouted. "Have you still not worked it out? I'm disappointed…"_

_"I didn't realise there was a puzzle." Kyouya answered, not looking up from what he was doing. This girl made him uncomfortable, and he hoped that this way she'd get the message. She didn't, coming and sliding into his line of view._

_"Don't you remember, Kyouya? I told you, you're dreaming. Aren't you even going to try waking up? I thought you'd be more fun to play with…"_

_"If I truly am asleep," Kyouya responded, going for the Tamaki approach. "Why would I want to wake up, my princess?"_

_She smirked again. "My, my. Fine words, but are they really true…?" She suddenly crouched by his side, whispering in his ear. "Tell me, Kyouya, how long have you been here? In this room? Do you even know…?"_

_He said nothing._

_"Yes… I can taste it on the edges of your mind…" She laughed lightly. "The doubts…Hours and minutes without name… Doesn't it seem odd that no-one besides me has spoken to you yet? Do you really _want_ to stay here…?" _

_He shuddered. How unlike him._

_She smiled all the wider. "You're hurt, Kyouya…" She said, jeeringly._

_He forced himself to smile. "Now, you really must be mistaken. _I _do not get hurt. That is far more Tamaki's area."_

_"No pain? That's good. That's the drugs… Though…" She looked him up and down, and then put a hand to his neck again. She winked once, then drew it slowly down his side. As her hand passed his chest, he felt as though it were on fire, just for a second, a flame jolting through his body. He had some relief, just for a second, then she reached his hip, and he was left gasping for a breath that wouldn't come. It really did hurt, and he couldn't tell her to get off him. He was doubled over, and when he straightened up, pain mysteriously gone, so had she._

_He frowned. What on Earth…?_

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They stayed there all day. Perhaps it was simply because nobody wanted to be the first to leave, or perhaps it was just because this was the one small thing they could do. This whole situation was so strange, so unreal- they hadn't even considered going to school that day. Time had rolled together into a squashed pulp, a mess, like it to had been dropped from a great height, and the darkness outside surprised them. Cars were called for. Haruhi was preparing to walk in the cold, crisp starlight- but, somehow, didn't want to leave Tamaki waiting on his own. Honey and Mori had each other, and Hikaru had Kaoru, and Kaoru had Hikaru and Kyouya had a team of doctors with the will to save a life. Tamaki was the only one alone. She was the second one alone, actually.

"You can go if you like." He said, as the twins' car pulled off. "It's okay."

"I'll wait."

He smiled at her. It wasn't his usual happy smile, but one of understanding. "Fine, but if you wait you have to have a ride home. Actually, I'd prefer if you did- it's dangerous out alone at night. I'm sure your dad is worried about you."

"He'll probably be at work, and probably won't be sober." Haruhi dismissed; and they waited in silence, neither saying anything else nor anything relevant. The car rolled up, crushing the hospital's gravel car park beneath it's merciless wheels. Haruhi had certainly never ridden in a car this posh. Still, the way she felt uncomfortable in it was nothing on how she had been feeling inside that stifling, all but silent, room.

They got in and sat there together and didn't say anything for a long time.

"He was… my first friend." Tamaki mumbled eventually. "When I came to Japan. Just in general, actually… In France, I didn't really get out much… So he really was…"

"Tamaki-senpai, you're using the past tense." Haruhi scolded, in as light a tone as she could. Inwardly, her heart was sinking. "Don't… pre-empt anything."

"That's right." He gave a shaky smile. "It _is _Kyouya, after all."

"Yes. It's Kyouya-senpai." She smiled weakly back. "He'll be outraged when he wakes up that we didn't do club today."

"He'll be taking his quiet revenge for weeks." Tamaki agreed, and Haruhi felt a little surprised that Tamaki even saw that side of Kyouya. He seemed hasty to defend his friend. "But Kyouya's not a bad person."

"No." Haruhi agreed, gently. "No, he isn't. Though… he is a little scary until you realise he's quite…"

"Gentle." Tamaki finished, and though that wasn't a word Haruhi generally associated with Kyouya, she thought about it and the more she did the more it seemed appropriate. For all his harsh words and threats and, indeed, sometimes cruel actions; his roughness, he always seemed calm and cool, and, somehow, in some way that could not be identified…

"Yeah, I guess that's the word I'm looking for." Haruhi said, and realised that the car had come to a stop outside the small apartment block. "Oh… I'll see you tomorrow, then, I guess? At school?"

"Yes." Tamaki nodded, but then said "I'll take you to your door."

"Um, Senpai… What with my dad… That's maybe not too great an idea." Haruhi said, sheepishly. Tamaki seemed taken aback, but then nodded.

"Alright… good night, then…"

He seemed so dejected that for a moment Haruhi couldn't quite stand to leave him. But she did, bidding him goodbye and slipping out of the door the driver was holding open for her. She went up the steps to her front door, relieved. The truth was, her father would be at work by now, but she had just wanted to get away from Tamaki; because she couldn't bear to see him so down, so lonely… She unlocked her door, thinking what a strange day it had been and what retribution they'd all get for skipping. Then she found she didn't care all that much.

She went into the quiet hall, but it didn't stay quiet for long. Suddenly, she found herself engulfed, swept up in her father's arms. And she realised she didn't want him to let go, seeking comfort like a child. At that moment, she didn't care to ask why he wasn't in work.

"Haruhi!" Her dad sounded almost angry. "Where have you been? Daddy's been so _worried_! The school called and said you weren't in, said none of the club were in, and none of their parents had been contactable or knew where they were, and I've been looking _everywhere _and… and…" He trailed off, realising that Haruhi had yet to push away his rebukes. "Haruhi? Haru-chan? What's wrong…? What's happened…?"

She finally unfolded herself from his arms. "We've been at the hospital all day, dad." She swallowed and answered his unspoken question. "Kyouya-senpai…" She gave a kind of strangled laugh as she realised how ludicrous the next half of her sentence would sound. "Fell off a roof."

She left Ranka mouthing in shock, and went to her room. She didn't have any homework, being scrupulous enough to do any on the night it was set; but today she had not been to school. She had sat all day next to a bed, listening to the plaintive ostinato of a heart monitor. As she lay on her own bed, she wondered if the monotony was a good thing- at least his heart was still beating, and steadily, not slowing, always, the same, slow, steady, beating, rhythm, not, breaking… down… at…all…

Haruhi did not cry for him that night. She did not believe in crying prematurely, she did not believe in wasting tears. She did not lie awake and worry as she had feared, but to her shame, fell asleep straight away, not even changing. She did not even dream of him, but instead she dreamt of a holiday she'd taken when she was thirteen, to a cliff top town. Her and her father's first holiday since her mother… But in her dream, she was sixteen, and could see it all again, as clear as sent. Worn old cobbles, and market stalls clinging to a steep hill, a coach station, the blue sky, a swarm of birds and tourists all streaming for the ocean, an endless strip of blue and yellow that stretched endlessly before her…

The dream, and the memory, was comforting; but even there, even there, it seemed she could not quite forget. Because the sixteen year old Haruhi knew that Kyouya was hurt, and that Tamaki was hurting just as much, but in a different way. And although the sun beat down on her mind all through that night it could not warm her heart.

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_Kyouya was still working at his laptop, but the doubts had been planted now, at the edge of his mind. He was working._

_What else would he have been doing?_

_Yes, he was tapping away and slowly getting through… through…_

_What was he working on?_

_The club's finances, that was it. Of course that was it. What else would it have been? But, then came the strange realisation that he couldn't remember exactly what he had actually _done_. Kyouya pushed this doubt aside again- it was simply that the routine was now so mundane he did it without thinking, his mind could wonder._

_Then again…_

_Kyouya gave himself a shake. He had let the girl's words unnerve him, and that was a silly thing to do. ' I told you, you're dreaming. Aren't you even going to try waking up?'? It meant nothing. Not a thing. And the reason that no-one besides her had spoken to him was simple- they knew better. Still…_

_If only to restore his focus, to ally his strange, dream-like doubts, Kyouya approached Tamaki._

_"Tamaki."_

_"Kyouya! Mon ami!"_

_Kyouya frowned a little at this. Tamaki had not called his 'Mon ami' since they were fourteen and the blond had first infected Japan._

_"I'm so happy you're here! It's not healthy for you to be skulking alone in a corner! And think of the children- they need a mother!"_

_That was better. Yet, as the face grinned up at him, so very… _real_, something in the back of Kyouya's mind was calmly pointing out that this was what his mind would expect Tamaki to say, and the only way to find out would be to do something that his mind would never do._

_But it was very hard to trick one's own mind._

_Then, Kyouya thought, he did not need to trick _himself_, he just needed to put Tamaki into a situation Kyouya could not imagine Tamaki in. And one thing slipped to mind. He could think of no alternative, and it was so awful Kyouya _almost _hoped he was asleep or crazy after all._

_"Tamaki." He said, perfectly calmly, showing no signs of his internal struggle beyond a momentary pause. "…I love you." He stated, matter-of-factly._

_Tamaki grinned, leapt up, and hugged him. "Yes, Kyouya! You are my best friend! I'm so glad we can be open with our emotions at last! It can only strengthen the bonds of friendship so that they will always endure!"_

_"No." Kyouya pulled away, and suddenly found he was almost losing his nerve. "I… don't mean as a friend. I mean it." Tamaki looked blank, and, sighing, he vomited the words out again. "I love you."_

_He only said them because they were, frankly, the least likely thing he was _ever _going to say. _

Ever.

_And as Tamaki continued to look blank, the same mantra was running through Kyouya's mind._

Please be a dream, please be a dream, _please _be a dream…!

_"What did you say?" Tamaki asked, head cocked to one-side. Then he suddenly grabbed Kyouya's wrist and started dragging him across the street. "Never mind, the coach is here! Yay, Japanese coach ride! Come on, come on!"_

_Kyouya followed his friend slightly numbly. What _did _he say? He found himself distracted by a girl standing on the street, smirking at him. _

_"Sleep well!" She called. _

_Kyouya frowned. What was that meant to mean? Was she mocking his inability to get up in the mornings? He'd have her know that was _normal _behaviour for any mentally stable fourteen year old…_

_Something struck him as odd about that thought, but he didn't know what it was. After all, most fourteen year olds slept in, least of all him._

_So what _could _be wrong with that thought?_

_"Kyouya…Rapidement! Hâte! Hurry!" Tamaki whined, and Kyouya shouldered his backpack, going to join his newly self-proclaimed 'friend', who he had been somehow lumbered with since the tourist had arrived from France. Now they had to do the whole 'tourist' thing, going to see the sights… though _why _he wanted to do it on a commoner coach, and to such a cheap place, Kyouya could _not _fathom…_

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"Tamaki-kun…"

Tamaki looked up to see a group of girls gathering around his desk, and smiled, and vague, half-formed compliments about angels flitting idly through his brain and falling to earth before reaching his lips; so he just kept the smile on his face.

"Um, we wanted to ask…"

"Where's Kyouya-kun?"

The question hung stark in the air. Tamaki was surprised no-one had heard yet. Then again, he supposed no-one had told the students. So he did.

"Kyouya had an accident… he's in the hospital."

There was a collective gasp, and he was immediately bombarded with questions, and it seemed to Tamaki as they seemed to overwhelm him, that he only had one answer-

"I don't know."

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"This is bad." At the impromptu meeting of an incomplete host club that lunch time, everyone having somehow ended up at the same table, Kaoru had drawn his brother aside.

"Yeah." Hikaru agreed, downcast. "But what can we do? Everyone's worried…"

They looked down the length of the table again. Tamaki and Honey were attempting to engage in conversation, and yet it was halting, kept failing them and slipping away, and the tone was always a little too light to be true. Neither of them looked as if they'd had much sleep, and even Mori was somehow putting out a troubled demeanour. Haruhi was sitting with them too, for once not even putting up a fight as they'd dragged her from a peaceful classroom. She wasn't eating too much. And neither, Hikaru realised, were they. He couldn't quite stomach it. It had taken a lot for anyone to be let into their world, and he wasn't ready to let anyone go yet. It wasn't just Kyouya. He'd never seen Tono or Haruhi like this, and Honey-senpai's smile kept fading…

"Kaoru…"

"Yeah. I know."

The twins made their excuses and left, drawing together in a crisis as they always had. They found a deserted hallway, and Kaoru pulled out his mobile phone. The two pulled together and crammed the phone between them.

"We're… calling to inquire about Ootori Kyouya…" Kaoru said, suddenly irrationally frightened of what they might hear. But the words came back as expected, as they always would, everyday, from then on.

"No change". And there never was.

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"I'm sorry… still no change."

_"What?" Kyouya asked._

_"No change." Tamaki repeated, stuffing his wallet back into his rucksack. "You paid for my ice-cream last week, remember? I need to pay you back, but I only have notes…"_

_"Forget it." Kyouya answered, oddly light headed. He wondered if the mountain air disagreed with him. His hip hurt, ached. No, more then ached. It was painful. It hurt, a lot. Like it was crumbling away…_

_"Kyouya!" Tamaki crowed in delight. "So generous! Mon ami!"_

_Kyouya pushed him away, before the boy could strain against the cheap commoner coach tour seat belts and hug him in such an undignified way. He felt the pressure remain on his hand and went to swat him off, but Tamaki wasn't touching him._

_He frowned at his hand, but it felt totally normal again._

_"I'm tired." Tamaki announced. "I'm going to dream."_

_"Pardon?"_

_"Is that the right word?" Tamaki mused. "Ahh, no, sorry, I mean 'sleep', don't I? Yes, I'm going to sleep… Bon nuit!"_

_"Tamaki…" Kyouya said, hesitantly. "Does anything seem strange to you…?"_

_Tamaki blinked at him for a moment, suddenly serious. "I thought it was just me…" He said, slowly._

_"…"_

_"You've had a haircut!" Tamaki finished triumphantly. "I _knew _you looked different!"_

_"…Forget it." Kyouya shrugged, and pushed the strange thoughts aside. Sleep didn't sound like too bad an idea…_

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"I'm sorry… Still no change." This had become Fuyumi's customary greeting for the last two weeks or more. She said the rest of Kyouya's family visited in the morning and later in the evening, but Haruhi wasn't sure she believed it. She hoped it was true. That day, it was just her and Tamaki. They'd all come as often as they could, after school, but the twins were due at some business dinner party their parents could not excuse them from, and, ironically, Honey and Mori were due at the same one. As the school's only commoner, Haruhi was naturally spared this pain and Tamaki's grandmother preferred him to be seen as little as possible.

"I see." Tamaki answered, as he always did, and sat down in one of the chairs by Kyouya's bed. "Well… perhaps tomorrow. And how are you, Fuyumi-san?"

Haruhi did not listen to the idle, polite, strained conversation. More then two weeks now, she had looked down on the pale face, covered by a mask, eyes closed beneath dark hair. It could have belonged to a stranger. But it didn't, it was Kyouya, and his glasses still lay folded on a side table, gathering dust. She was never sure what she was meant to do in this sort of situation; after all, she had never pictured herself comforting Kyouya. He wasn't one for intimacy or affection; but she missed his presence in a strange way. She took hold of his hand, just to remind herself that he was still there. He was still there, and he was still Kyouya.

"He _is _Kyouya, after all…" She whispered reassuringly to herself, as she always did, but she could never stop herself recalling sitting around another hospital bed, watching her father slowly fall asleep holding her mother's hand, and not knowing that the next time he woke she wouldn't…

"You seem tired, Fuyumi-san." Tamaki was saying. "You should get some sleep."

"I… alright." She said, eventually, seeming exhausted. She seemed to be constantly at the hospital. "Wake me up before you leave, okay?" Then she patted Kyouya's arm gently. He did not react. "I hope… I hope you're at least having sweet dreams in there, my little brother…"

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_They stepped off the coach at long last, into salty air. Kyouya was relieved. He'd never known that automobiles could be so bumpy, nor roads so rickety. Although, he didn't remember all that much of the journey; perhaps he had fallen asleep despite the jolting and his usual reluctance to sleep in public. _

_"Ahhh, this is great!" Tamaki was marvelling, already running up and down the street to peer around at the small cliff-top town. "Look! An ice-cream parlour! Let's get one later, okay? Oh, and look! That shop paints shells! We'll have to get some, Kyouya- ah, I bet your sister would love one! Oh, oh, look! Regardé! A market! And all by the ocean!" He laughed in pure happiness and started to drag Kyouya up the sloping path towards the market place, full of locals and tourists out enjoying the sunshine. Tamaki stopped to marvel at some hand-carved wind chimes, and Kyouya took the time to examine their surroundings. More precisely, he was looking at the people- the curiosities that littered the stalls were of no value to him. His initial scan did not reveal anyone important, at least as far as he knew; but then his eye was drawn to a girl, probably a middle-schooler, brushing long brown hair back behind her ear with one hand, the movement what attracted his gaze. In the other hand, she was the blurb of a book she'd picked up from the stall, large, chocolate coloured eyes scanning over the words. Something seemed awfully familiar about her, but where had he met her…_

_"Ah, Kyouya, mon ami!" Tamaki interrupted, in an entirely infuriating tone. He had seen where Kyouya's gaze was pointed and jumped to conclusions. "Have you spotted a pretty girl?"_

_"Heh." Kyouya snorted. "_I'm not the who's in denial. 'Fatherly feelings' indeed…_"_

_Tamaki looked blank. "Pardon?"_

_"You-" Kyouya suddenly found he didn't have any idea what he had been about to say. He turned again and watched the girl as she walked away, having purchased the book, along side her father. Or her mother. The person was certainly_ dressed _as a woman, but no; somehow, he knew, no matter how good the disguise, it was a man. But he couldn't know that. He didn't know the girl._

_Frowning, he heard someone call._

_"Kyouya." _

_He turned, and saw another girl smiling dangerously at him. He didn't know her either, he had never seen her before. But as soon as he looked, there was pain, all down his right side. His hand and arm, burning; every breath like sucking in razors of ice, and something pounding in his ears and head, a thin, mechanic bleeping…_

_"Who are you?" He gasped, as the pain passed._

_"It doesn't matter." She smiled all the wider. "You'll get to recognise me in the end. After all, you're not going anywhere… not unless you remember…"_

_"Remember what?"_

_Tamaki was suddenly beside him again. "You _promised_!" he insisted, waving his arms in distress. And then Kyouya remembered. Yes, he _had _promised to spend some time on the beach today… so the two headed down for the sand._

_"Although, on the subject of pretty girls…" Tamaki smiled. "I've had this brilliant idea…"_

_Then:_

"Kyouya, let's start a club!"

_And:_

"…Talk dream-speak only in your sleep."

_Kyouya shook his head in confusion- was he hearing things too, now? But he didn't think so. He didn't 'hear' them precisely, it was more like being hit by a hidden memory. A memory of a dream he hadn't, as far as he knew, ever dreamt._

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"You _can't_! You can't do this! He's still alive! _He's still alive!_"

"Is he?" The reply was quiet, in comparison to his harsh shouts. Hikaru, still on his feet, continued.

"He's still breathing! His heart's still beating! You… You… You can't just… You're going to _kill _him! That's _murder_! You may as well just cut his th-!"

"Hikaru." Surprisingly enough, it was Tamaki's cold voice that stopped the older twin's fiery temper. "Stop it. Just… That's… That's enough." His eyes closed for a long time, longer than needed. When they opened, tears flowed with them, unashamed. "…That's enough. For everyone. For Kyouya, too. My mother always said that sometimes… sometimes you have to know when to let go. And…" He swallowed painfully. "It's not our decision, Hikaru."

Hikaru just looked around at them all, the Host Club and Kyouya's family, and the man himself lying there oblivious. He stared, and then seemed to accept that perhaps there really was a time that all things had to end. He ran from the room, and Kaoru followed.

"We'll turn the machines off on Saturday afternoon." Kyouya's father said, stiffly. "So you can come and say your goodbyes."

"Thank you." Tamaki murmured, and gripped his best friend's arm briefly, his eyes dry again. "Then… I'll see you on Saturday, Kyouya." He turned to his friends. "Come on… Let's leave the family alone for a while…" He lead the remaining hosts out.

"Tama-chan…" Honey said, uncertainly. The King was looking at the floor.

"Honey-senpai. Mori-senpai." He said, flatly. "Please ensure Haruhi gets home safely."

Haruhi touched his hand, briefly. Normally, she'd object to this slight on her independence, but it did not feel right to argue just then; and she didn't want to be alone. It seemed, however, that Tamaki did, and they left him standing there.

He stood there a long time, and, when he was sure he could, he began to leave, only to have a hand tighten on his arm. He turned to see Fuyumi there.

"I…I wanted to thank you." She said, haltingly, trying to smile. "I wanted to thank you, because you're the reason that Kyouya's bed has been surrounded by friends everyday."

"There's no need to thank me." Tamaki replied. "We're here because we want to be. And if we didn't… if we didn't have reason to like Kyouya, we wouldn't be. So really… really, it's down to him."

Her sobs escaped her and Fuyumi could not speak. But she hugged him, and held him close, and Tamaki had not been held like that since he had left his mother, comforting and being comforted. But eventually, they had to pull away. Because there was always a time to let go.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Haruhi sat quietly on the bench, next to where Honey stared down at the floor and Mori dead ahead, unblinking. The twins were leaning on a railing not far away, Hikaru with his arms folded and his head resting on them, face buried. Kaoru was looking at the ground too, his head in one hand.

No-one said anything.

Haruhi was thinking about Kyouya. As all of them were. She'd never stopped to think before how much these strange boys actually meant to her. Well, not really. She had realised a little, of course, on the day that her debt was paid off and Tamaki was leaving. She had chased him then. They all had. Because…

She still didn't know why. Without Tamaki, though, there would be no Host Club; and without a host club, there would be none of her friends, no chance to meet up with them. And now it seemed another of them would be making an untimely departure. She stared up at the overcast evening sky and tried to imagine what it would be like without Kyouya. She'd never tried before, because it was inconceivable. There was just… no way to imagine. She hadn't realised how used to things she had become, or how much her friend actually meant to her. Haruhi was never one for sitting around and thinking about her feelings; really, she hadn't ever really thought 'Hey, these guys are actually my best friends now'. And with Kyouya, she had never thought 'Would I miss him if he was gone?'.

Still. Now she had. And the answer was a resounding, undoubted, yes. She didn't know why- Realistically, Kyouya was not the most easily likeable person, and that wasn't going to change now he was dead. Almost dead, she amended hastily. Yet, something about him, and his strange, twisted sense of humour that was almost unnoticeable and dry as a desert; and something about his arrogance and confidence, and the strange way he did, yes, want to look after his friends; even though he couldn't admit it… It wouldn't be the same without him.

She didn't want it to change. None of them did.

At length, Tamaki emerged, coming down the outside steps to the hospital. He almost didn't notice them sitting there, waiting for him.

"What are you doing here still?" He demanded. "I thought you'd all gone home."

"We waited." Hikaru offered, simply.

"We thought… we ought to try and stay together." Kaoru added.

No-one voiced the thought that flitted through their heads- That they couldn't stay together now, not really, no matter how much they wanted to.

"Poor Kyou-chan…" Honey said, eventually, and offered no more.

"They're doing it too soon…" Hikaru insisted, hands clenching into fists. "It's only been a month! I mean, I mean, people wake up, right? They usually leave it much longer! They're doing it too soon!"

"No, they're not." Tamaki said, quietly. "It's been thirty-nine days. Fuyumi-san told me… she said that he's in pain."

They all looked at him, surprised, horrified.

"What?" Haruhi blinked. "But he can't be. They're giving him painkillers, aren't they?"

"It's not enough." Tamaki shrugged a little. "I didn't really understand… but they are all doctors, and, somehow, they can tell. From the spikes." He gestured idly with his finger the patterns that sometimes appeared in Kyouya's brain monitor, suggesting dreams, or something worse. "So… if it's hurting him… It's not too soon."

"Of course it's too soon." Haruhi said, quietly. "He should be living to an old age. But there's really nothing they can do…"

"No change." Mori muttered.

They silently digested this and the sky grew all the darker. Still, they stayed there, together.

"This sucks." Kaoru complained, eventually, upset. It was the world's biggest understatement. "He's a bit of a jerk, isn't he? Making us all feel so terrible."

Haruhi managed to spew out a small giggle. "Ah, trust Kyouya to… to make sure he gets his way right too the end."

"It's probably all his master plan." Tamaki agreed. "If he's going to die, he may as well do it in such a dramatic way that the designators are all falling over themselves to come and console us."

They all laughed, and cried, together; but nothing was funny.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

_Kyouya lay in the small hotel room they were staying in that night, and looked up at the dark ceiling above him. For some reason that day, it seemed very far away. Too far away for him to reach. He couldn't get back._

_He blinked a little as the thought crossed his mind. 'He couldn't get back'? Wasn't he thinking about the ceiling?_

_He reached the idle conclusion that this new friend of his was far too much trouble and a bad influence, that he was becoming far too dramatic, even in his own imaginings. Speaking of which, why was it his mind kept creeping, slipping back to the girl they'd passed in the market place? There was something important about her, he was sure, and somehow she was important to the mystery that he _knew _was before him, though he did not know what it was. But something about this was just wrong, and he was certain that if he could just think where he had seen her before, it would all unravel. 'you're not going anywhere… not unless you remember'. Was this it? Did he have to remember who that girl in the market was?_

_A name drifted in and assaulted him from nowhere, wandering across his mind. He sat up with a jolt, '_Hitachiin_' still echoing round his brain._

_Then he dismissed it. What a ridiculous notion. He knew the Hitachiins, of course he did, they were those twins in the Middle School section. Their parents owned the clothing corporation, and that girl was nothing to do with them. Neither, for that matter, was Kyouya- he had no idea why that name had struck him._

_Then, another, '_Haninozuka_' this time. But no, he told himself sternly, that was a martial arts family; their son was in the year above. No, not Haninozuka- _Morinozuka

_He almost snorted. Morinozuka?_ _Wasn't that the tall, blank looking guy that always followed Haninozuka around? The one that won karate? No, wait, kendo. _

_Kyouya scolded himself for letting his knowledge slip this much, but couldn't focus too much on that. He was wondering why, of all the names that could have sprung to mind, it was those ones; and it wasn't over yet. Casually, another name slipped into his brain. '_Fujioka_', something whispered. This time he was sure of it. It seemed to fit. Fujioka was her name, he was sure, but why did he know? He could not think of a company owned by the Fujioka family, and he was sure he had never seen _Haruhi_ before-_

_Haruhi? He frowned to himself. Where had that one come from? The name fit her, somehow, that face with long hair and large eyes; he was _sure _it belonged. But why? Who was Fujioka Haruhi?_

_And then he knew. _Because Haruhi was in the Host Club_, he knew it, somehow instinctively, though he did not remember. He began to be weirded out a little. 'Host Club'? His brain was just throwing out random words, but they seemed to make more sense then the things around him. _Yes, Haruhi was in the host club, along with him and Tamaki and the Hitachiin brothers and Haninozuka and Morinozuka. _But that couldn't be. There wasn't a Host Club. Not unless-_

_Not unless he'd simply…forgotten… And now he was…_

Dreaming?

_Pain. It shattered in front of his eyes, took over his whole body this time, searing in at his hip, shooting down his body; the worst yet, like bleeding, driving all the thoughts from his mind, he wasn't thinking of anything-_

_And it stopped. There was a girl peering at him in the gloom._

_"Did you remember, Kyouya?" _

_"What…?" He said, blearily. "What…?"_

_"Kyouya! Kyouya! Are you alright?!" _

_"Tamaki…?" Kyouya looked up in confusion at his friend's worried face. "What's the matter?"_

_"You were crying out in your sleep." He replied. "Was it a bad dream?"_

_Kyouya considered. Already, whatever images had been tormenting his mind has slipped through his fingers like water. He tried to cling to it, just registered something about dreaming; and a face, a name, and something he wasn't supposed to forget…_

_"Are you alright?" Tamaki asked him again._

_"Yes. I'm fine…"_

"Goodbye then, Kyouya."

_"What?"_

_"I said: Goodnight."_

_"Goodnight." He answered, slightly baffled. He lay back down. How he longed to close his eyes and escape this dull room. But he couldn't. Then again, he couldn't go back, and it _was _the middle of the night. There was no reason not to let his eyelids sag and just let himself slip softly away into that most forgiving sleep…_

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Saturday. Kyouya's last day. The clouds and rain of the past few days had lifted at last, and it was sunny and bright; and wholly inappropriate for the situation, although not for June. Wind stirred the trees, and a bird sang, and for a moment Haruhi drank in it; wishing Kyouya could have seen these things just one last time.

_Then again, _she thought, wryly, _Kyouya probably wasn't one for appreciating nature._

She felt a little jolt as she realised she didn't really know. In fact, she hadn't really known Kyouya at all. Oh, she was sure she knew him as a person, on some level, she knew all the _important _things; but what about the unimportant things? She didn't know anything about his likes or dislikes, what he liked to read or how he relaxed, or… or his favourite colour. It seemed odd. In comparison to the others, she'd known him a relatively short time; and it felt as if she didn't know him at all. She'd only really begun to consider the two of them 'close' after the culture fest, when they chased Tamaki, and she'd danced with them all, and when it was Kyouya's turn he had muttered in her ear that he was glad she had decided to stay in the Club even now her debt was gone. He had been glad, and she had been glad that he was glad; glad that they were friends. But now, now that she had been thinking about him so much, there was 'that' question, that question of 'just friendship' that hung in the air and perhaps, just perhaps, she would have explored it if she had been forced too; but now it was better that she didn't.

Although, if she was honest, even if everything had been fine, Haruhi doubted she would have been convinced to let her thoughts veer off down that route. She was quite happy keeping her thoughts where they were, thankyou.

They gathered silently around his bed, because it was almost time, and this time it was Kyouya's assembled family that left the room. They'd already said their goodbyes, and recognised the importance of letting the Host Club say theirs.

And yet, as they hovered awkwardly around the bed, no-one knew what to say. They had to say _something_, _anything_, but… what was there that could be said? 'Sorry you're dead'? Yeah, whatever.

Haruhi pressed her hand over her mouth, lifted it off, pressed down again; not thinking about what she was doing. The rest all just stood there, stiff and still and desperately searching for something to say.

"Remember, the first day of the club?" Kaoru said, suddenly. "And we-"

"Were totally anti-social." Hikaru completed. "We thought it had been-"

"A bad idea after all-"

"And then Kyouya said that we were in the Club now and there was no getting out of it-"

"And something about his Private Police-"

"He was so scary." They finished together.

"I must admit, I didn't expect it to end like this…" Tamaki said, quietly, running a hand through his hair again. The action had been practised to perfection over the last month or more. "I never even imagined he would…"

"You never think the ones you love can die." Haruhi said quietly, and the memories were rearing up again, of her father clinging to her mother's hand, and falling asleep, because he didn't know, couldn't know… and how neither of them got to say goodbye. She couldn't let it happen again. She would not live with anymore regrets. "We have to say goodbye. Properly." She tried to convey the massive importance of this single act to the others, but couldn't explain. "We have to, or, we'll always…"

Tamaki placed a hand on her shoulder. "Yeah. Alright, then. Let's… let's all do it together." He wondered if he should grab Kyouya's arm, or his wrist, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't feel the warmth still in his friend's body and know that it would soon ebb away. Besides, he doubted Kyouya would want some huge display of emotion or affection. He never did. He relayed this to his club members, who seemed to agree that really, all in all, there was only one thing to say, and they all said it together:

"Goodbye."

"See you then, Senpai." Haruhi added, afterwards, not registering even now that she wouldn't.

"Bye, Kyou-chan…"

"Kyouya." Mori said, affirming both his friend's presence and his continuing importance simply by saying his name.

"We'll burn that clown costume you hated." The twins promised.

"…Goodbye." Tamaki said again.

And it was time.

Kyouya's family re-entered. So did the doctors. Tamaki suddenly wrapped his arms around Haruhi, and she realised she was crying, probably had been for some time; but he was crying too; and Honey, and the twins and Mori were so pale and stiff… Then, Kyouya's family. Haruhi could not see his mother's face, or his second brother's. The mother wept for her son into the shoulder of another of her boys, who was looking anywhere but at his sibling in the bed. That surprised Haruhi a little- she wondered how much time Kyouya had spent with is mother, and if she regretted how little it was. Fuyumi knelt by the bed, clinging onto her baby brother's hand for just a little longer. His oldest brother and his father stood side by side, awkward, unnatural, stiff and stoic. The doctors seemed a little off-put- perhaps they had never had to do this sort of thing in front of so many people before.

But Haruhi knew that they had to be here. It was only right that they were.

"I'm afraid it's time." One of the doctors said gently, and stepped forward, but Kyouya's father held up a hand to stop him. For an instant, there was a flutter of hope that quickly died down as the man spoke.

"I'll do it." He said, quietly. He had qualified as a doctor, long ago, this was his hospital; and turning off the machines was the only thing they could do to ease suffering now. It was his son, and he wanted to do it. "I'll do it." He repeated. "Kyouya… earnt everything he had. He never accepted anything for free. This… this one thing, I can give my son."

Tamaki watched as he moved towards the bed, as Fuyumi stepped aside. This all still seemed so unreal. Another dagger was pushing through his heart right then, as he realised what he and Kyouya had never considered- that his father _regretted. _Regretted never telling Kyouya he was proud, never apologising for pushing so hard, never, ever relenting…

"You are my son." He whispered, gently lifting his youngest child's head slightly, fingers caught in fine and wiry hair. He undid the strap and took the mask away from Kyouya's mouth. He had one, last look at his son's living face, and turned the life support machines off one by one. Then he stepped back, and together, the room waited.

They couldn't watch. The only person in the room who did not look away was Haruhi, because someone she cared about had left her before, and she had looked away too soon then; and now she could only remember her face from photographs. So she looked and stared at his features, and in her mind, whispered one final goodbye.

They fell silent, none looking, but all listening, as the heart monitor still bleeped valiantly away for another few seconds, knowing it would fall into a long and continuous drone. The beat slowed. His pulse dropped. It slowed a little more.

Some minutes later, Tamaki spoke, looking up and over at Kyouya's family, breaking the atmosphere previously dominated only by the slow and steady ostinato of the heart monitor. "Is it… meant to take this long?" He whispered, wishing it was all over.

"No." Fuyumi said, just as quietly. "No, it isn't." She raised red eyes to her family, who were all exchanging glances, looks.

"What does it mean?" Haruhi asked, fearing the worst, because a drawn out death would be even more painful then a quick one.

"It means… that he's doing okay." Fuyumi was saying, in disbelief. "It means that he's holding his own… It means he isn't ready to die just yet!"

They stared.

His father dithered for a moment, as the doctors stood in amazement. "I always knew he was stubborn." He said, eventually. "Well then… get that machine back on, quickly! Fuyumi, put his mask back on, we don't want the poor boy to suffocate after all this! My son is still alive!"

The Club members looked at each other in incomprehension, then disbelief, and then the Twins laughed, and soon they all were. Although nothing was funny.

"He's still in there." Tamaki was saying over and over. "He's still in there, somewhere, and determined as ever…"

"We should have known." Kaoru shook his head.

"It is Kyouya, after all." Haruhi finished, and beside her, the heart monitor continued to bleat out it's steady rhythm.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

A/N: And there it is. The end of the imaginatively titled 'Part One'. I have to say, Part Two is my favourite; but it really won't appeal to everyone so there's really no obligation to read it. Anyway. In Part Two, Kyouya's woken up, but there is what he calls a 'minor complication'. At least, he calls it a minor complication _at first_. He has no memories of the previous year, and consequently no memories of Haruhi. At least, he doesn't at first. Then he starts to remember things. Highly suspicious things, like pinning her to a bed at his beach house. Then, things really get messy…

Obviously, part two is just poking a bit of fun. But never mind that. Thanks for reading this far, chaps:D


	2. Part Two: Memories

A/N: Ah, thank you for joining me in Part Two. It's even longer then part one! _(Thunk) _But never mind, never mind. This is really the part that the reasoning for the title will hopefully become clear, though it was really inspired by a sort of running joke between my sister and I. I think Kyouya might have said 'I considered the information irrelevant' about something important, like, once; but for some reason we decided he probably does it a _lot_. Annnnnnnd, nobody cares. Disclaimer still stands. Onward!

Part Two

It was just a matter of waiting now, until he woke up. And, nine days and five hours after they had attempted to pull the plug, on a sunny Monday when the sun was just beginning to set; Kyouya opened his eyes.

It was a sheer testament to human nature that such a simple movement, such a simple action that people do every day of their lives, could bring such a flood of emotions; a tide of relief and happiness and the final tinges of worry. And, as his sister had gone to find something to eat, the moment was theirs.

"Kyouya…?" Tamaki tried, as his friend blinked up at him, pulling the mask off his face in disgust but still not speaking. "Are you alright?"

Kyouya considered this question for a moment, taking the time to get his bearings. He was in a hospital, an Ootori one, naturally. Gathered round were a collection of multi-coloured hazes, one of whom had spoken with Tamaki's voice. There was a dull, throbbing pain all down his right hand side and he got the impression pretty much everything was bruised or broken. That, mixed with the painkillers he'd presumably had, probably accounted those strange dreams… but already, they were fading away… hadn't he been dreaming about middle school…?

"Kyouya?"

"…I can't see."

Tamaki stared down at his friend's unseeing eyes in terror, and gripped Kyouya's hand. "Ah, no, that's terrible! But I'm right here, Kyouya, we all are, and we'll help you no matter what; and even in your blindness you must remain thankful-"

"Tono." Hikaru interrupted calmly. "I think he just means he needs his glasses."

"Thank you…" Kyouya answered, and Haruhi snatched them off the side, handing them to him. He looked at her in confusion as he slipped them on, then dropped her gaze and dragged himself into a sitting position. He silently surveyed them as Mori slipped out of the door to either fetch his family or a doctor or both.

"…What happened?"

"We're not sure." Tamaki answered. "You fell off the roof of your house. You've been asleep almost seven weeks now."

"I see." His eyes flickered around the room, taking it all in, and lingered on the twins. Nervously, they waited for him to speak. "Hikaru, Kaoru." He said, steadily. "Is that your school uniform?"

"Sorry." They replied together. "We had detention and came straight here, so we didn't have time to change."

"Ah…" Kyouya pushed his glasses back up as an age old habit, and, just for a moment, seemed a little fazed. "…Then, it seems there may have been a minor complication."

They gawped back at him- Kyouya had just woken up and already he seemed to know more than them.

"What's up?"

"Well, as far as I was aware, the twins are in their final year at middle school," Kyouya said, quite calmly. "And Tamaki and I are in our first year of high school. However, it would seem that is not the case."

They stared at him, stunned. He didn't react, sagging a little, a combination of pain and drugs taking the sharp edge from his mind. He didn't even notice their horrified expressions.

"No, Kyou-chan, that's not right…" Honey said, eventually, "You're in your _second _year. The last term of it."

"So it would seem." He muttered, tired again already. For the moment, he wasn't too worried about his apparent memory loss. After all, as far as his mind was concerned, there was nothing wrong. That was probably part of the problem, but at that moment, he didn't care _how _old he was, he hated not knowing, but he felt too tired and foul tempered to do anything more then ignore the problem. The others were more anxious, discussing it in circles. Kyouya let it all wash over him. Then, the girl in the room- although, if it wasn't for her feminine clothes he supposed she could have been taken for a boy as well- spoke.

"Ano… Kyouya-senpai…" She shifted awkwardly. "If you've forgotten all this year, doesn't that mean that you… don't remember me?"

Silence, and all eyes on her, shock and horror and sympathy. Kyouya, more interested right then in wondering where his family were, and in the dull aches all over his right side, looked at her one last time; and stirring no memories, said simply:

"No. I have no idea who you are. Or what you are doing here, for that matter."

She bit her lip suddenly, then forced a small smile. "Oh… well, that's okay, I guess. I'm just glad you woke up, Kyouya-senpai."

"Haruhi…" Tamaki said, tentatively, but just then Kyouya had enough time to see his sister burst through the door before she jumped on him and practically hugged him to death. Weakened as he was, he was totally at her mercy, and when he was finally released he noticed the girl had slipped away. He frowned, but, as doctors and friends massed around him, and someone started on about how his parents were on their way, he felt a little overwhelmed and did not consider her again. Really, in comparison to everything else at that moment, she was an irrelevance.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Fujioka Haruhi. The name was unfamiliar, but his friends would insist that it shouldn't be. She came to the Host Club, they said. She been his friend, they said. But, whatever he had once known about her was entirely in his blank spot, and he didn't find it particularly relevant. It was more important to him, in that moment, of getting him up-to-date with what had happened in school and his father's company in the time he'd been asleep. He just thought of it that way- in truth, he'd only been asleep six and a half weeks, but it may as well have been a year to him.

He was at home, at long last. After all, the doctors of Ootori hospitals were some of the best in the country, and this was their boss' son- They weren't going to let him go until the last moment, when they were absolutely sure. Even now, they had insisted he stayed at home for a while longer. He was using the time to look over the records of investment in the Ootori group over the last year; and was shocked to find the stock had been entirely brought out by someone using the alias 'KO'. He snorted at that. He'd heard the phrase 'KO' on those fighting games the twins played on occasion- _Knock-out_.

Really, some people.

Still, his father still controlled the business at least; and Kyouya fully intended to buy it out himself eventually. It would just make life more difficult with his shadowy investor. He'd have to quiz his father about it at the next opportunity. In the meantime, a maid knocked on his door.

"Kyouya-sama." She said, with that special smile all the staff seemed to give him nowadays, the 'I'm-so-happy-you're-alive-but-you-must-be-so-troubled-by-your-experince!' smile. "There's a visitor here for you!"

"Kyouya!" Tamaki burst into the room, grinning, with a large golden retriever bounding in behind him. "Hello! I've brought Antoinette because animals help ill people!"

Kyouya merely looked at him and wished he could run away. Unfortunately, having knocked his hip out of place, he'd still be on crutches for a while yet.

"I'll bring tea, shall I, Kyouya-sama?" The maid asked, and blushed furiously as Tamaki smiled at her in a way rarely seen outside the third music room.

"Thank you." He said warmly. "You've been invaluable."

Flustered, she bowed and attempted to back out the room, crashed into the doorframe twice and eventually giggled her way out.

Kyouya wondered what he had done to be surrounded by such idiots. Again. Then his thoughts were distracted by the dog bounding over and proceeding to slobber over and lick every inch of Kyouya it could reach. Tamaki wasn't much help, merely expressing his delight that they were 'making friends'. Thankfully, it backed off once the maid returned with the tea and pestered her instead before suddenly flopping it's head down on Tamaki's lap and sleeping.

"When did you get a dog?" Kyouya asked, watching cautiously as Tamaki stroked the creature's head.

"Oh! Well, we went to a commoner festival in a shopping centre one day and you were asleep but said you would come but wouldn't wake up so we bought you along only then you fell off and got lost and we were _so _worried and-"

Kyouya found he couldn't quite keep up with this tirade of Tamaki's version of events. The words seemed to be sticking in his mind. A commoner festival? In a shopping centre? He couldn't imagine what would possess him to do any such thing; and yet-

And yet.

Just a flash. A table. Food. And her, sitting opposite.

What on Earth?

"Kyouya?" Tamaki's voice had a serious edge, a note of concern. "What's the matter?! Are you alright?! Should I fetch your parents?"

"I was just thinking." Kyouya covered up quickly, though his mind was working furiously. Where had _that _come from?

"Oh! Did you remember something?" Tamaki said suddenly, eagerly.

"No." Kyouya answered, a little too quickly. The image had been just too bizarre to be real; or else there was no other memories to support it and explain it. Why would he have been alone with her? So it was irrelevant, and he pushed it away.

"Ah…" For once, perhaps because he was trying hard for his 'stricken' friend, Tamaki sensed the need for a change of subject. "Anyway, Kyouya, look what I've got…" He tugged on a heavy bag, that, on closer inspection, appeared to be full of text books. "I thought, if a year is missing from your memory, you might be a bit… behind." He said it as if it was a forbidden word, as if he was frightened at what Kyouya would do to anyone who would dare suggest he was 'behind'. However, Kyouya was rather taken aback at this apparent forethought of Tamaki's, and, more concerning, something that Kyouya himself hadn't considered.

A year's worth of forgotten lessons was no laughing matter.

He swallowed, and grabbed one of the books, flicking through. Sure enough, he didn't remember learning any of this stuff…

"Oh, that's something we did right at the start of the year. It's a poem… It's about two lovers, you see, and the girl is telling the man about her jacket- see, this line here- that got crumpled and-"

"And she had an argument with her parents, at which point the lover attempts to become both the jacket and the father figure." Kyouya finished. He had no idea where the information had come from, particularly when it was so far removed from his tastes, and he did not remember learning it, but it was all _there_.

With everything else, it was the same story; everything he'd learnt was still lodged firmly in his brain without him having any recollection of how it had got there. Tamaki took this surprise very happily, burbling that it was a sure sign that Kyouya's mind would soon be fully restored. Kyouya, meanwhile, just found it wonderfully convenient and a great relief.

"Kyouya…" Tamaki said slowly, unusually serious today. "Have you… thought anything more about Haruhi?"

"Who?" He said, vaguely, looking back at the poem. _Think, two things on their own and both at once, the first that exercise in trust… _What trollop. After a moment or two he became aware that Tamaki's voice had not yet pervaded the silence. He looked up to see his friend's face, apparently struggling to restrain himself from an emotional outburst at his indifferent tone.

"Haruhi, Kyouya. You know, we told you, she's-"

"In the host club, I know." Kyouya shrugged. "Incidentally, my memory of that time is perfect apart from, it seems, the time when I actually _agreed _to being in this club…"

"Ahah…" Tamaki floundered. "Well, you remember up until the last month or so of our first High School year, right? So you remember how well the club does!"

"Quite." Kyouya dismissed. He wasn't ready to start tackling the club just yet; he had no idea what sort of state it would be in when he returned… they could be near bankrupt for all he knew…

"We're thinking of opening again soon." Tamaki said eagerly. "I mean, we closed so we could come and see you, and we didn't think we'd start again if you didn't come back to us, but now that you have I think the ladies would be anxious to see us and concerned about you and would like to comfort us in our worried visages…"

He didn't seem very worried.

"…Fine." Kyouya answered. Just being around Tamaki and his dog- who seemed to be eying his crutch, lying on the floor, rather hopefully- was exhausting and he really did not have the energy to even consider arguing.

"Great! We thought we could get everything back in order, you know, so when you come back we can maybe have a party or something, you know how popular they are-"

Indeed he did. The Host Club had held several parties of their own, of course, but they were always in great demand at those held by the school-

Fireworks above the school. Music. And a hand in his…

Kyouya coughed to cover up his confusion. He had a horrible, twisting feeling in his gut that he knew _exactly _who that hand belonged too…

"Fine." He spluttered again.

"Ah, you seem tired…" Tamaki seemed disappointed as he mis-interpreted Kyouya's expression. "I guess I'd better go, but don't worry, Kyouya! I shall return soon! And maybe I'll bring the others next time, they're all quite anxious to see you again…!"

"Fine." Kyouya said, dully. It was true- he hadn't seen any of the other hosts since he had come out of hospital. He thought this was probably so as not to 'crowd' him as he 'recovered', but couldn't ever decide who, apart from him, would have had the good sense to suggest such a thing. Maybe that Haruhi they kept talking about?

"Well, don't bother to see me out, you mustn't strain yourself!" Tamaki was burbling. "I'll tell the others you said hello-" (here Kyouya thought vaguely that he had said no such thing but didn't care to interrupt) "and that you're looking forward to coming back! They'll be pleased to hear you can still remember everything you learnt, we were worried about that… it was Haruhi that told me to bring the books over… Anyway, bye Kyouya! See you soon! Come, Antoinette!"

He bounced out of the room.

Kyouya rubbed his forehead in the sudden blessed silence. Truth be told, Tamaki wasn't acting quite himself, possibly this was him attempting to be subdued. However, he was still hideously hyperactive and so _expectant, _like he would have magically remembered everything overnight. He felt a slight stab of annoyance as he noted, again, how many times that Haruhi girl had come up in conversation. He'd said time and again he didn't remember her, and why should he force himself to get to know her again now? There must have been some benefit in it last time, but he couldn't see any now, not when she was just a scholarship student… and their being club members, surely, would provide enough leverage if she became important enough to do a deal with in later life… it frustrated him that they all seemed to think she was so very important, that it was so very _integral_ that he remembered her…

And it frustrated him even more that he couldn't. Because he didn't know why it was important he did. And he didn't know why, that time, he had been so sure the hand in his had belonged to her.

Kyouya forced it away again. Such a miniscule memory, for certain, had to be entirely irrelevant.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Across the classroom, the girls were smiling knowingly at one another, and the boys in amusement, as somewhere in the middle of it all Tamaki remained unaware how loud his absent-minded humming was. No-one quite had the heart to tell him to be quiet, because, for a long time, he hadn't been himself.

They'd all known why, of course. It had been strange with Ootori around, to be certain, the raven-haired class president had always seemed as much a permanent fixture as the desks and chairs, unmoving and always there waiting. The class had all been tense, waiting for news, but none were hit harder then Tamaki. For some weeks, he had seemed to have a grey, distracted air around him that had only blackened as the weeks wore on. Then, one Tuesday morning, he had dashed in all excited and finally announced to the class that the previous evening Kyouya had woken up at long last. That had signalled the return of the bumbling, bouncing, energetic idiot they all knew and loved; and that was probably the best sign he could have given them.

Tamaki, for his part, hadn't told them everything just yet. He had been expecting to have to go into school with a very different announcement the week after they'd attempted to pull the plug. Before the attempt, he had considered telling the class what was going to happen, but he had the feeling that the family wouldn't want to be overwhelmed with well-wishers, and, more likely, those that felt they 'ought to' and those that were just curious. Now it was probably a good job he hadn't, as Kyouya now looked like he was going to make a full recovery. Apart from the memory thing. But Tamaki was confident that would come with time.

Tamaki's humming faltered a little bit. He hoped Kyouya's memory would come back _soon_… he couldn't quite understand why his friend changed the subject every time Haruhi was mentioned. It was almost like he didn't want to remember her, and this caused him concern as to what would happen when the two were in close proximity at the Host Club again… Still, Kyouya hadn't even started back at school yet, so there was still time.

And, seemingly purely to prove that thought wrong, the door slid violently open. Kyouya looked quite striking, appearing dramatically in the doorframe after so many weeks, supported by the crutch gripped on his right arm. The class seemed shocked into silence, but as he began to limp across the room- mentally cursing his still-mending hip- it descended into uproar.

"Ootori! Yo!"

"Welcome back, Kyouya-kun!"

"We knew you'd be back!"

"Oh my, is it painful, Ootori-kun?"

"Yeah, welcome back!"

"Can I have a go with your crutch?"

Kyouya ignored them and simply slumped with into his chair, his normally dignity compromised slightly by obvious relief. Unexpectedly, Tamaki was not exactly overjoyed to see him.

"You're not supposed to come back for _at least _another two weeks!" He scolded.

"I might as well be sitting here catching up on the work I missed as sitting at home missing more." Kyouya answered, simply.

"But you shouldn't be exerting yourself, Kyouya!"

"I'm not."

"Well, well, I'm not letting you come back to the club yet! I will not allow it!"

Kyouya simply shrugged. "Okay. In two weeks, then." He turned his attention to the other people that were crowding excitedly around their recently returned classmate. Kyouya didn't recall being so popular, but thankfully, things simmered down when their form teacher entered, welcoming him back before proceeding with the other business of the morning.

Truth be told, Kyouya had already caught up with the seven weeks or so of work he had missed, it was a matter of course to him. So he had needed something new to distract his thoughts from the circles they so frequently got stuck in, trying to remember one Fujioka Haruhi.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

He hadn't expected to see her just yet. Oh, Tamaki had talked of gathering the club members together during the lunch hour, but he had been planning on making some sort of continuous excuse that would serve him until the end of his two-week-Host-Club-ban. By then, he reasoned, he would have figured it all out. Simply, he had never liked not knowing things, and she served as an obvious and sore reminder of everything he had forgotten. Still, beyond that, he doubted she had made much of a difference, so it was fairly irrelevant. However, as he sat in one of the Libraries amusing himself with a document his father had given him describing state-of-the-art new X-ray equipment, her voice cut into his peace.

"Kyouya-senpai?"

He jolted, startled. How unlike him. The sudden movement sent a stab of pain through his right side and he cursed. She seemed almost amused, however.

"Tamaki-senpai said yesterday you wouldn't be back for two weeks. That's probably why."

Kyouya glared at her, but to his surprise, it didn't have an effect.

Had she just got used to it over the past year…?

"I'll thank you not to speak to me like that." He answered, shortly. She frowned, and then rubbed her forehead in a manner not entirely unlike his own.

"Oh, ah… sorry. I forgot. That you don't… never mind. Good to see you, anyway."

There was an awkward silence as both reflected on the familiarity they had apparently lost.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, irritably. The reading rooms were usually deserted during lesson time.

"I'm three weeks ahead of the rest of my class, so I'm here to research the next topic." Haruhi answered, indicating the book held loosely in her hand. "What about you?"

Kyouya raised one eyebrow just the tiniest bit. "For some reason, no-one seemed to think it was a good idea for me to do PE with a busted hip." He nodded towards a nearby window through which the playing fields and an apparently vicious game of football could be seen. Kyouya snorted a little. "Whatever team Tamaki's on will win, of course. I was really the only one who was any match for him, before…"

Haruhi filed the surprise at Kyouya taking PE aside- perhaps he just wanted to stay active- and changed instead to the subject at hand. "Do you remember anymore of what happened? I mean, your accident. All anyone seems to know is that you fell off the roof, but that doesn't seem like you…"

"I wasn't pushed." Kyouya answered, flatly. Truth be told, he had an age old habit of walking around on the roof when he needed to think, and if he was deep in thought it wouldn't have been hard for him to miss his footing, but whatever he had been thinking so completely about had sadly been lost on the way down. However, he saw no reason to divulge this somewhat irrelevant information to her.

Another awkward silence resulted.

"I'd better get back to class." She said, but hesitated just a moment longer. He could clearly read on her face the moment she made her decision, and she said: "Kyouya-senpai, I don't suppose you've remembered-?"

"You?" He completed, irritably. "No, I haven't."

"I didn't think so." She said, a small sigh escaping. "Oh, well… Bye then, Kyouya-senpai."

Kyouya stared after her, wondering if he had perhaps been a little cruel. True, he had only had those miniscule flashes, no more then an irrelevance in the grand scale of things, but perhaps that would have been good for her to hear, given some hope…

He suddenly scowled. Just when had he started to care if he had been cruel?

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

That night, thunder struck, and Kyouya was kept awake by it.

He was not amused. One of the main reasons he was capable of sleeping so late in the mornings was because he could be kept awake by the slightest of sounds, least of all a great rumbling storm. Once he was out, though, he was out, and nothing would wake him.

So why couldn't it have waited another few minutes?

No, Kyouya was not amused. At all.

He could have got up and done something productive, and he was sorely tempted too. Yet, he wanted to sleep, and he was stubborn enough so that he wouldn't let a silly thing like a storm stop him. So he lay awake in bed, listening to the sounds of the wind and the rain at the window, and the light flashing through his eyelids, and tried to tune it out.

He had a sudden image, his hand pressed to the window pane, staring out a storm lashed sky as rain splattered on the glass. Tamaki was shouting in the background,_ but he wasn't really listening, because he knew, out there, somewhere, she was alone._

_"Dreaming again, Kyouya-senpai?"_

_Kyouya turned. A girl he didn't know was there, in silhouette, illuminated on occasion by the lightning. _

_"Who are you?"_

_"Aww, don't you remember? That seems to be the problem, doesn't it?"_

_"…What are you talking about? I don't know who you are!"_

_"I," She said, quite happily, "Am nothing more then your imagination. The lovely side-effects of those painkillers you have to take all the time… Nothing more then a twisted dream… and _I_ am in control of your mind."_

_"No, you don't."_

_"I do." She smiled, and quite suddenly, accompanied by another crash of thunder, he fell to his knees, his injured right hand side hurting more then it had done in some time. "You see? And I'm going to be here for a while, because you'll never be healed unless you remember."_

_"Remember what?!"_

_An unusual smile. Cold and distant, to match the weather outside, which the girl now turned to face, and, with a final smirk, faded away. _

_Tamaki was still shouting._

"Haruhi is afraid of thunder!"

Kyouya woke up, his hip hurting quite as much as it had before, and, accompanied by the continuing storm outside had probably been what had awoken him. He rubbed his face, wondering why, if his mind wasn't too worried about what it had forgotten during the day why it felt forced to pester him at night. Just as before, the memory, or the dream, whichever it was, was beginning to slip away from him. There was a storm, he was sure of that, and someone telling him to remember… that Haruhi was afraid of thunder.

What a useless piece of information that was. A total irrelevance.

What Kyouya was more concerned with, however, was why he had known that to begin with. Why he presumably once cared. In between the flashes of light and dark that night, Kyouya's idle mind was forced to consider what the relationship between himself and Fujioka Haruhi had once been.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Lunch-time. Kyouya had managed to get out of it the previous day, but it seemed there would be no escaping it, no getting away from an impromptu reunion with the older and younger members of the Host Club.

Including her.

And his stomach churned when she approached, undoubtedly. Kyouya was ashamed, he had thought himself above such things, but no, for some reason she made him nervous, fearful, even. Which was quite bizarre, because he didn't understand why he should be afraid to face her- what was he not wanting to remember?

Or, maybe it was another matter entirely. Maybe this turning in his stomach… the way she made it twist… was remnants of another, considerably more dangerous feeling…?

Or, perhaps it was nothing to do with her at all, but the painkillers that were screwing up his stomach as well as his dreams? Nausea was a common side-effect, and so was the paranoia that had messed up his first assumptions. Yes, his unsettled stomach was no more then the usual irrelevance.

"Good afternoon, Kyouya-senpai." She said, and then quietly ate her bento without saying much else. This was immensely preferable to the exuberant greetings from the twins and Honey, which in turn excited Tamaki; but just as Kyouya felt he was going to drown in joviality the twins turned it down to complaining about his absence the previous lunchtime instead.

"Tono was really put-out that you wouldn't come." Hikaru concluded with a frown.

"I don't think I've seen you that moody since you and Haruhi argued at the beach." Kaoru teased Tamaki lightly.

Kyouya wasn't expecting his memory to be jogged so easily. In fact, he was satisfied that the conversation was finally turning away from him and their elaborate theories as to why he fell from the roof. And yet, just like the other times, the memory came unexpected and unwelcome.

A darkened room. His bare face, and neck, and chest and skin, looking down on wrinkled sheets, hands curling in them, and the tiny bit of moonlight that crept through the window over her face below him, looking into his eyes without a trace of doubt of fear… eyes that held absolute certainty as he hung above her.

Kyouya swallowed what he was eating very slowly. He risked a glance at Haruhi.

That twisting in his stomach was back.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

He didn't believe it, of course.

Kyouya paced- with no small amount of difficulty- across the courtyard.

No, his first thoughts were no more then baseless assumptions. There was simply no grounding to them, no way they could be correct. He didn't believe it.

He turned and went the other way. Yet, the way things looked…

No. It was absurd. Impossible. There was another, more logical explanation, he was sure, but he just couldn't remember it at the moment. There had to be, because otherwise…

Another reverse journey. Otherwise, he'd…

No. Unthinkable. Baseless, unbelievable, absurd, impossible, _illogical_. The memory made no sense, no sense at all. He was worrying over nothing. There was a far more natural explanation.

He crossed the small square, surrounded by high walls on all sides, once more to the accompanying sound of the fountain, water falling like rain. He sat down on the slightly damp stone rim with as much dignity as he could, because otherwise he would have simply fallen into it. He was technically supposed to be walking as little as possible, and his damaged hip was protesting against his breaking of this rule. But he could hardly keep still, he was restless.

The natural and logical explanation had yet to present itself. Resultantly, Kyouya was left with the other, stupid explanation that he and Fujioka had…

He stood to begin pacing again. Was it possible, just possible, that suddenly, at the age of seventeen, he had suffered a sudden influx of hormones? He had assumed himself long-since past that sort of thing, but if that wasn't to blame, then he must have actually had proper and deep feelings for-

No. This was ridiculous. It was worthless even entertaining the notion. As if movement would provoke him memory into providing a more reasonable explanation, he took a limping step forward. He made no further progress, however, because it was at that moment that Tamaki burst into the peace, frowning slightly. This courtyard was unpopular. The surroundings meant it was usually quite dark, and there was nowhere to really sit. There wasn't even a terrible amount of room, and the only way to get through it was from the end of one of the corridors right at the back of the blocks. In fact, people only really came here if they wanted assured privacy. And here Kyouya was, though admittedly he would have preferred the school roof had climbing the stairs not currently been such a daunting task.

Besides, his injuries that now prevented him from climbing onto the roof had been caused by that very thing to begin with.

At any rate, Tamaki was now beaming at him, and coming ever closer.

"Ah, Kyouya, there you are! I wondered where you'd got to, I've been looking everywhere!" Kyouya gritted his teeth. He could still detect a note of concern in his friend's voice, and knew he had been a pretty much constant worry for Tamaki since he woke up; and probably before, but also that Tamaki knew how much Kyouya would hate to be worried about, and this carefully care-free tone was the result. Tamaki ran down to his side. "We should have tied you to the chair- why did you skip out on us?"

But, his voice didn't hold the normal insulted and whining tone it should have done, had everything been fine, and on top of everything else today, Kyouya couldn't take it.

"Will you stop that?" He snapped, and for a moment everything was quite normal.

"Ah, Kyouya, don't get mad! We were just worried after you left so suddenly! At first we thought you were simply answering nature's call, but you'd been such a time, and we thought perhaps you were ill, but then you weren't there, and we've been looking everywhere, we quite thought you'd been abducted in your weakened state, we've been so worried-"

"I don't need you to worry about me, Tamaki." He answered, coldly. "Nor your poorly-disguised sympathy. So just… stop."

"Act like nothing's happened?" Tamaki had caught on, but sounded outraged. "Kyouya, how can we while our hearts are still warm? You haven't been yourself, and we all just want you to recover as quickly as possible- I swear, I will not rest until you have all your precious memories back!"

Kyouya opened his mouth to respond. Half of his mind wanted to say that was mostly the problem, half of him wanted to calmly inquire as to what these precious memories may be, and what, exactly, was the precise nature of his relationship with Haruhi. Fortunately, good sense caught up with him first- and, anyway, Tamaki was still going strong.

"…I was thinking, perhaps if we went back to all those places that we visited then maybe it would jog your memory, back to the beach-"

Their holiday home by the sea, and her, standing in the doorway to the dining room in a dress, finally looking feminine. The same dress she'd been wearing in… Kyouya flinched.

"Tamaki…"

"And to the commoner supermarket, and Italy, 'cause we went on a class trip there, remember? Well, of course not, I'm sorry, that was insensitive but never fear! I'll make it up to you, Kyouya, I promise, nothing will stop me-"

"Tamaki. Quiet."

"-From reuniting you with the whole of this year, with all the ups and downs, with memories of all our heart-felt conversations and moments that strengthened our friendship-"

"Tamaki!" Kyouya wasn't certain, but he defiantly hoped the 'heart-felt' talks were all in Tamaki's head, which was even now spewing forth more idiocies.

"-and of your friendships with the others, with Hikaru, and Kaoru, and Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai and the designators, and Haruhi, of course! To have forgotten her… of all people, to have forgotten _her _is nothing short of tragic and to have poor Haruhi left without-"

Tamaki had been about to say 'a mother', which may have allied Kyouya's growing fears, but he didn't get to finish. Seeing that verbal protests were not going to work, Tamaki received a swift smack in the face with the rear end of his supposed friend's crutch. It was surprisingly painful, and Tamaki stumbled back, overbalancing. Even so, now sitting on the gravel, he grinned.

"Not a word." Kyouya growled at him, pulling himself with a little more difficulty into a sitting position. He had quite forgotten that he relied on that crutch to keep his balance, and, effective a weapon as it was, the swing had also caused him to end up sprawled in a most undignified way over the floor.

"It's only justice after your unwarranted attack." Tamaki informed him good naturedly as he stood, apparently too entertained by Kyouya's fall to be concerned with his own aching nose.

"Hmmph." Kyouya gave no further response, instead using a nearby wall for support in the attempt of getting to his own feet. His hip was protesting in the strongest of terms. Even walking around school was supposed to be too much at this point, and adding in the extra pacing and the somewhat harsh fall onto his side… He winced slightly, something he had never believed he would do. It was so quiet it was practically silent, but it seemed Tamaki still heard, because without giving Kyouya a chance to argue he came and hauled the other up.

"Kyouya?"

"Yes?"

"Did you remember something? When we were eating?"

Kyouya was slightly taken aback by this sudden show of perceptiveness. Tamaki had a habit of springing these moments on Kyouya when he least expected them.

"What?" He snapped again, irritably.

"You're defensive, that means yes." Tamaki grinned, and just then the bell signalling the end of the lunch hour called them back to class, saving him from answering.

Kyouya was still sorely tempted to say: "Yes, actually, I remembered pining Haruhi down on a bed", just to see what reaction it got, but again, good sense prevented him. But what a pity it was. Because perhaps then Tamaki would have told Kyouya the full story, that Haruhi had once told him.

Of course, that particular information was currently an irrelevance, at least to Tamaki.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Kyouya had a plan, of course.

Yes, a plan. Of sorts.

Actually, it wasn't much of a plan, but Kyouya decided to ignore that fact.

He couldn't do anything, he thought, until he had more information, and really knew exactly what had happened between him and Haruhi since he had met her.

Unless he had met her before…?

No, of course he hadn't. Anyway, he had decided a simple course of action, and that was to get to know Haruhi better in the hope it would all become clear. He couldn't just ignore what he had remembered, of course, because Kyouya could never be satisfied with something unexplained. It was sorely tempting to just ask her, but he couldn't help thinking that saying 'Haruhi, did we sleep together?' might get him slapped if the answer was akin to 'No, of course not, you pervert!'- an answer he was still hoping desperately for. No, it was the rational explanation.

At any rate, Kyouya thought, it quickly became clear that Haruhi was not really the slapping sort. Unfortunately, that observation was made from afar. His return to the Host Club was busy to the point of being unbearable at times, he'd never had quite so many designators at once. He always had far fewer then the others, only seeing one or two in a session so he could do all the admin, and yet that was no longer possible; his daily demand had, for the first time, outstripped Tamaki's; a privilege Kyouya could have lived without. So, really, the only opportunity for talking to Haruhi he had was when she brought a tray of drinks over to the table for him, his movement encumbered slightly.

He would be on the crutch for a long while yet. Six or seven weeks. Perhaps more.

Kyouya was not impressed.

Many of the girls were. For some reason, an injured Kyouya seemed to be more popular then a healthy one. Perhaps he could arrange to break Tamaki's legs…

"Here you are, Kyouya-senpai." Haruhi said, suddenly at his shoulder, bringing drinks to his table in the club once again. Kyouya saw the girls smiling up at her, and thanking her, but he did not quite dare look up himself. For some reason, he found her face most distracting, presumably because his mind was furiously trying to place it. That was fine when he was not supposed to be serving customers, but not during. Even so, things were hardly going according to plan when he didn't even get chance to speak to her…

Kyouya looked again at the softened expressions on his designator's faces, and realised dully that, like many others, he didn't remember then choosing him before, which normally meant they had started coming within the last year. These two, however…

"I'm sorry we didn't come to you this week, Haruhi-kun." One said, answering the question that was beginning to form in Kyouya's mind. "We were just really worried about Kyouya-senpai…"

"That's fine." Kyouya watched the girl's expression change and somehow knew _exactly _what version of her gentle smile was on Haruhi's face. She, out of all of them, acted the most like herself for the designators; although it seemed she was a little kinder to the girls. That had been about the sum of the information he'd got so far, so although he still didn't look, he listened as she continued speaking. "You don't need to apologise- I think it's great that you care."

The girls blushed and grinned. Kyouya was beginning to realise properly why he had allowed Haruhi's masquerade to go on so long. She was, worryingly, rather a natural.

"You're not hosting right now, are you, Haruhi?" He asked, speaking at last. That seemed to be the way everyone else in the club addressed her, so he went with it.

"As most of our designators are coming to you now, no, I'm not."

"Then why not join us?"

Haruhi simply nodded, and lowered herself into a seat- and into Kyouya's line of vision. He allowed himself to study her face again, hoping he'd remember something more solid, but she didn't seem to mind, simply staring back, idly tapping her lips. Was that a habit of hers, or was she remembering something he could not…?

The designators had noticed the look too, and now the second girl spoke. The story of Kyouya's memory loss had been well circulated and, again, seemed to be some sort of morbid selling point. So, she spoke with eagerness.

"Have you remembered anything of Haruhi-kun yet, Kyouya-senpai?" She asked.

Kyouya did not answer.

"I don't mind." Haruhi put in quickly, with a smile that seemed rather forced. "It's fun to be getting to know each other all over again." For her part, she believed Kyouya was behaving rather oddly towards her. Which, she supposed, was only to be expected- but somehow she had imagined Kyouya was almost invincible, fazed by nothing. At first, he'd seemed determined to ignore her, but recently… To her surprise, Kyouya spoke.

"Actually, I have remembered something… just now…" He had a strange half-smile on his face. Something really had just come to mind, but he may as well add drama to the moment. Besides, he was just so sick of all of this. He had a year missing from his memory, which wasn't such a long time really, and yet he was totally lost. "I half-recollect coming to visit your home, I believe…"

Haruhi looked a little surprised. "Yes, you did."

"Hmm. I seem to remember the floor being very uncomfortable."

Haruhi looked less impressed. "Really."

Kyouya didn't really notice, though. The vague memory of Haruhi's living room was opening out a little, and a person suddenly flitted into his mind, not so much a face or a name, but…

"Yes. I believe I met your mother in person."

He didn't realise that the others were exchanging troubled looks.

"My mother…" Haruhi repeated faintly, not sure what to say.

"Yes. Your mother. Unless your father enjoys wearing dresses, in which case I would be a bit concerned."

"Oh, would you?" Haruhi spat back, before adding hastily: "Of course he doesn't!"

She didn't think the designators would appreciate her father's occupation.

"Well, then. Unless you're suggesting your mother looks like a man-"

Kyouya's sentence was interrupted by the realisation that Haruhi perhaps was a slapping person after all. Or, in this case, as she had to keep up the masculine pretence, a punch. Stunned, having not come across physical violence before- as far as he knew- his hand flew to his now aching cheek, and stared at Haruhi, on her feet and breathing heavily.

That reminded him of something. Girls screaming. Men, on top of a rock, and Haruhi running up towards them, and the sounds of struggle, and him, running across the sand in time to see her falling from the rock into the ocean…

But this was not the time for that.

"You…" She began, and then shook her head, uselessly. "You know what? I'm sorry, Kyouya-senpai. I guess you didn't know. But you should research better." She turned to Tamaki. "I'm going to take off early today, Tamaki-senpai."

"Haruhi…"

She ignored him, going anyway, but Tamaki chased after her. Silence reigned in the remnants of the room. Eventually, it was punctuated by a slow, unimpressed clapping from the twins as they wandered over to where Kyouya was.

"Way to go." Hikaru said, dully.

"You managed to touch on one of only two things that make Haruhi properly angry." Kaoru added, without sympathy.

"There was no reason for her to get enraged over some simple sarcasm." Kyouya defended.

"Really?" The twins answered dryly, and Kyouya began to get quite annoyed that no-one felt the need to fill him in.

"Alright! What am I missing?" He snapped.

"Kyouya-senpai…" One of the designators said, hesitantly. "Haruhi-kun's mother is dead. She died a long time ago. So you can't have met her, and you really shouldn't…" She trailed off.

Kyouya was rather taken aback. He really _did _have to do better preliminary research. But she was only a commoner, he hadn't think he'd be able to find anything of any value…

"Plus," Hikaru was muttering in his ear, "Her father really _does _wear dresses for his work. You used to get on pretty well with him; he was worried sick about you, so you really shouldn't be so disrespectful."

"Anyway," Kaoru added, equally quietly "The fact he's a cross-dresser isn't really something we advertise so be careful what you say!"

Kyouya was, in short, stunned; something that was happening worryingly often since he woke up.

And, on that note- with the President gone and the Vice-President shocked into inactivity- the twins, Honey, and Mori decided the club better close early.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

By the next day at club, Haruhi was acting as though nothing had happened, and Kyouya followed her lead. He wasn't sure if Tamaki had caught up with her the day before, or even if that would have made a difference. In fact, he couldn't tell what Haruhi was thinking at all.

That infuriated him.

Even more infuriatingly, he couldn't tell what _he _had been thinking, or was thinking now. His mind was a mess. He had never imagined a world in which he would be on good terms with a _cross-dresser_. That in itself was worrying. Even more worryingly- and the fact that it worried him _more _then the cross-dressing thing was a true testament to his confusion- this particular cross-dresser was Haruhi's father. Who he was apparently on good terms with. Her father.

Why was he on good terms with her father?!

Of course, his ever-logical brain pointed out, it seemed he had been on even better terms with Haruhi herself.

It was hastily told to shut up.

Still, Kyouya was tired of all this. It was bad enough that he had forgotten a year, that his hip was painful, that his walking was so slow and complicated, without his thoughts swarming around as well.

"Kyouya-senpai?"

He turned to see a girl smiling kindly at him, and realised he didn't have a clue what she had been saying to him. It must have been clear on his face, because she giggled happily.

"You were ever so distant, Kyouya-senpai." She said, and he realised he had been. How unlike him, to be so unfocused… but he had a lot on his mind, to say the least. "Were you dreaming, Kyouya-senpai?"

Dreaming? Something in his brain was stirring…

_"You're dreaming, Kyouya. And you're not going to wake up."_

A memory. Of something. A memory of a dream, he thought, not knowing how he knew. But his ponderings went no further, as his side suddenly upped it's pain level another few notches. Ignoring everything around him, he began digging in his bag for the tablets he was forced to carry with him.

Yet, it didn't seem to matter so much; nor did the pain. His mind was reeling. That voice… he knew it. It had been in his dreams, almost every night now. Recurring dreams were hardly uncommon side-effects to pain, but why those words, that he had forgotten as soon as he had awoken, had come back to him, he didn't know. If only his _real _memories would come back with such ease. The voice in his dreams was beginning to come back to him. _You're not going anywhere, not unless you remember; you're limited edition; don't you remember, Kyouya, have you still not worked it out; Did he have to remember who that girl in the market was; do you remember, Kyouya; dreaming again, Kyouya-senpai; nothing more then a twisted dream… and _I_ am in control of your mind…_

"Kyouya!" Tamaki shouted, obviously not for the first time. Kyouya blinked, he hadn't heard Tamaki approach at all. His side was still hurting. He calmly swallowed the pills, and said, in an indifferent tone:

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you answer?"

"I was thinking." Kyouya answered, simply.

"But you were totally oblivious! What were you thinking so deeply about?!"

Kyouya just smiled bleakly, wondering what Tamaki would do if he knew what a mess his head was currently in.

"Kyouya?"

"Oh, I _chose _not to answer that time." Kyouya shrugged.

Tamaki was looking worriedly at him. "Kyouya, I can't stand this!" He said, suddenly. "You just haven't been yourself since you woke up! You absolutely refuse to talk to us, you don't seem to be making any effort to remember anything, you don't say anything, it's like nothing is important any more!"

Kyouya laughed harshly. "Well, I'm sorry. Perhaps I've changed in the last year, but I don't remember being any other way. If you can't handle that…"

"Kyouya, we just want to help…"

He snorted. "Believe me, you can't help me."

"Kyouya-senpai!" Haruhi's sharp voice cut in. "Stop this! Just stop it! Do you not realise… do you just not _care_… that this is hard on us to?! We were convinced you were going to die, we were terrified, and then you woke up- but suddenly all the friendships you so slowly and unwillingly built have been put back a year. Suddenly you hardly know us! You think that's easy for people _unlucky_ enough to care about you? Tamaki is your best friend, you've known him a long time, and you suddenly treat him coldly even though you _must _remember being close before, and you've barely said a word to the twins and Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai even though the club used to do all sorts together. You think that isn't just as tough, maybe _harder_ then what you're going through? And as for me, well, I'm back to square one- I may just as well not _exist _around you nowadays; the relationship we had is gone… it's hard for all of us. So stop being so selfish."

As was becoming habit, Kyouya said nothing. He was surprised, taken aback, at the genuine bitterness and pain in her voice. He hadn't stopped to think before, really, what this was doing to everyone else. Important things may have happened last year… particularly for her. And for him, too.

For them.

The evidence was compelling, of course. He had been friendly with her father, and all those memories he'd had…Eating with her. Dancing with her. Her fear of storms. That beautiful dress. Visiting her home. Her being thrown into the sea, and… the other thing he had remembered. Then there was the more physical feelings, the complaints in his chest and stomach, shifts of guilt and nerves and something else whenever he saw her. He wondered if he had enjoyed his relationship with her. And he was suddenly hit by the fact that, if they had been so close- worryingly literally- then the fact he didn't remember her, the fact that he barely even knew her name…

It must be killing her.

Everyday, without even knowing it, he was hurting her. Making her angry the way he was simply made matters worse.

And one day, somewhere along the line, without even knowing it… he'd come to care.

He cared that he was hurting her. This was a bizarre concept to him, but he was prepared to accept it. He accepted that somewhere in the year that was lost to him, something in him had changed. And with change came a certain amount of responsibility.

Kyouya had a strange type of old Japanese honour in him. He did not shirk responsibility.

He looked directly at Haruhi, looked her eye to eye, and though the feelings in his stomach reasserted themselves as usual, his uncertainties faded away.

"Haruhi." He said, calmly. "Can I talk to you?"

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Haruhi was surprised by the request, but she didn't hesitate to go with him from the room, slowly of course, but as fast as he could probably manage. There was just something in his voice, some certainty in his tone, that invited no arguments. A tone that had not been heard since before his accident. Kyouya had not seemed certain of much, nowadays. So she followed him out of the Host Club and through the grounds, to a tiny enclosed courtyard with a fountain that she had not visited before. She sat on the stone rim in front of the water, expecting Kyouya to do the same when he could not walk far, but he did not. Again, already, he seemed a little agitated.

Haruhi didn't push him, but listened to the water fall, and draped her fingers in the flow to distract herself from the fact that it was possible, just possible, there was another reason, a tiny flame of hope, that had prompted her to follow him so readily.

"Haruhi." His voice came eventually, with that same note of certainty. "I need to talk to you."

She turned and gave him her full attention. For a moment, he seemed to find it hard to meet her gaze, focusing instead on the fountain. But then his eyes met hers.

"I still don't remember very much." He said, bluntly.

"I know." Haruhi answered. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does." He said, quite unexpectedly. "Haruhi, you said yourself this is hard for you, didn't you? That it… hurts. I don't want to hurt you."

"It's not your fault you don't remember!" She answered, hastily, worrying that her guilt tripping back in the room had greater effect then she had wanted it to. "So it really doesn't matter that you can't remember…"

"That's the thing. It matters. To me." Kyouya said, a little haltingly. "And I didn't think it would."

Haruhi blinked a little. Truth be told, she didn't think her feelings would matter to him very much, even when they were friends she hadn't thought they were realistically high in his priorities, and now they'd been reduced to practical strangers…

Kyouya was still talking, perhaps unable to stop. Somehow, she thought, if he stopped, he would never continue. "So I've been thinking a lot about why it seems to matter so much, and why it should matter, and I've remembered a little… What I'm saying is, Haruhi, I think it's only right that we continue where we left off."

Haruhi was lost. "…What do you mean?"

Kyouya pressed on. He couldn't believe he had actually… anyway. He certainly wasn't going to do anything as indecent as just walking out and leaving her, but it seemed she was already resigned to that. "I mean we should go out again, Haruhi. It's the only decent thing… and… I'd like to. Even though I don't remember ever… I would like to go out on Saturday. With you."

Kyouya did not think such an awkward sentence had ever passed his lips. Then again, he had never felt this awkward… and yet, somehow, so right. He hoped that, by re-starting the relationship he would perhaps be able to remember the past, perhaps be able to reshape his life…

Unfortunately, Haruhi was still saying nothing, still gawping at him. The thing was, she was rather surprised. 'Surprised' was rather an understatement, actually, and then that was coupled with embarrassment, a tiny touch of inexplicable guilt, and the odd feeling that this would be extremely amusing to someone out there. Finally, she found her voice, and asked, as calmly as she could:

"Kyouya-senpai. Are you… Do you think we were an item?"

He looked at her slowly. She could almost see a mantra of swearwords creeping through his otherwise cultured brain. "Are you saying we… weren't?"

"No. We weren't."

Kyouya's poor, confused brain- that wasn't at all used to being confused and didn't quite know what to do with itself- seemed close to melting. He couldn't quite accept what she had just said. "…Never?"

"Never."

He fell silent for a long time. But his brain had frozen. After spending so long trying to convince himself there had to be another explanation and then accepting there wasn't, to find there was after all was somewhat confusing. "If that's the case, then what I remembered must be wrong…"

"What did you remember?" She asked, patiently.

"I remember going out with you! Eating with you... somewhere. Dancing with you. Being at your house. You being at my beach house. Why would we have done any of those things if not…?"

"Eating with you, huh…?" Haruhi tried to remember himself. "Kyouya-senpai, I think you're thinking of a festival Tamaki-senpai dragged you to while you were asleep. They left you somewhere, and then you bumped into me. We ate in a fast food place. Defiantly not a date, particularly as I was paying."

"What about the dancing? Hardly like me…"

Haruhi smiled gently at him, beginning to see why he had ended up with the conclusion he had. "That was just at the school culture fest. I danced with everyone there. Same with the memories of visiting me- it was Tamaki-senpai's idea, you all came."

Kyouya was quiet for a long time, probably, Haruhi thought, digesting these new angles. Then he spoke again.

"And the beach? I remembered you getting thrown…"

"Ah. That was bad. Tamaki-senpai had to dive after me." She laughed slightly. Then she noticed the look on Kyouya's face and got a sinking feeling. She hardly liked to say it. Reddening slightly, she forced herself to ask. "Ah, Kyouya-senpai… are you thinking of later? In your bedroom?"

His face told her the answer was 'yes'.

"Nothing happened." She said, firmly. "You were just proving the point I'd been reckless taking on those me that threw me into the ocean. But nothing happened."

Kyouya said nothing. He had never felt embarrassment so severe. He simply didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. He knew he would be relieved, later, and that this explanation made a _lot _more sense all things considered, yes, the relief of it… but really, he was beyond the embarrassment that made people want to hide, and up to the point where it didn't even seem real. He simply wasn't in this situation. He spoke through his hands, still stubbornly trying to prove his point, though it sounded almost like he was talking more to himself by this point.

"But there _must _have been something! There's something you're not telling me, there must be, because otherwise why do I feel like _that _every time I so much as _look _at you…?"

"Ah." Haruhi said, in a rather odd tone of voice. "That, I can't tell you."

Kyouya stood. He didn't know what to do, didn't know what had made him believe such madness, let alone say it. He didn't know what to do, but he had to leave. He had to go.

His mind was pounding. His memories felt closer then ever, pounding behind a screen just a centimetre out of reach. His mind felt drained and empty. He couldn't think. Not of anything relevant. But, as usual, a memory slipped suddenly into his mind. Not one from his 'blank spot'. One from years ago, a weekend excursion with Tamaki… one he had dreamt about. A memory of a little seaside town.

"Haruhi." He said, figuring he may as well just ask when things could not be any worse. "Did you ever go to a village called Karunai?"

"Yes." She said, suitably bewildered. "The summer before I went into my final year of middle school."

Kyouya laughed bitterly. _His initial scan did not reveal anyone important, at least as far as he knew; but then his eye was drawn to a girl, probably a middle-schooler, brushing long brown hair back behind her ear with one hand, the movement what attracted his gaze. _His dreams had drawn his attention to her, a girl he'd walked straight past in reality, but had importance there. He'd just remembered.

Not that it matters.

He continued leaving.

"Kyouya-senpai!" Haruhi said, suddenly, and he reluctantly turned to face her. She was standing in front of the fountain now, looking at the falling water, putting her hand in it again. Stalling. She was thinking of those weeks, those terrifying, horrible, dark weeks when she had believed he was going to die. She remembered the day that they had been told the plug would be pulled on Kyouya, and the dark avenues her thoughts had not been able to escape.

_She stared up at the overcast evening sky and tried to imagine what it would be like without Kyouya. She'd never tried before, because it was inconceivable. There was just… no way to imagine. Something about him, and his strange, twisted sense of humour that was almost unnoticeable and dry as a desert; and something about his arrogance and confidence, and the strange way he did, yes, want to look after his friends; even though he couldn't admit it… It wouldn't be the same without him._

_She didn't want it to change. _

Haruhi had remembered. And she had called out to him.

"Yes?" He said, sharply, the irritation making a bad attempt at hiding his embarrassment.

"I haven't answered your question yet." She said, quite straight-forwardly. "So… yes. If you'll have me, if you meant what you said about 'that' feeling… I would like very much to go out with you on Saturday."

Kyouya couldn't help but stared. He was even more surprised to find that, actually, he was quite prepared to go out with her regardless. She seemed to read his expression again, and he was saved from the embarrassment of agreeing.

"Of course," she said, glancing at his crutch. "We won't be able to do much, with your leg like that. Maybe if we just go to the cinema or something? Sorry if that's not fancy enough, but you're defiantly not coming to my house because dad would never let me hear the end of it…"

Kyouya seemed momentarily taken aback. Then he chuckled slightly, something that didn't happen often and made Haruhi very curious.

"What?"

"I just remembered why I fell off the roof."

"Why?"

"I was engrossed in thought."

"What about?"

"The stocks in our hospital. What else?"

Haruhi rolled her eyes and then, after telling him she'd meet him _outside _her house at 10:30 on Saturday morning, suggested they went back inside, and wondered if they should tell Tamaki the most recent development of their relationship. It probably wasn't a good idea, she thought.

Kyouya didn't say very much, still relieved she had bought the 'stocks' line and kicking himself for mentioning it to begin with. One thing was for sure, he wouldn't be telling her what he had _really _been thinking about. About the film he would like to see. More importantly, about the film he had wanted to see _with her_. He had been pondering about whether he should ask her, or how he should ask her, or what people would say if he asked her, and if he wasn't supposed to be above such trivial things anyway. And, being so deep in thought about such trivial things, pacing, he'd some how managed to trip and fall.

How very idiotic.

Yet, somehow, it didn't seem to matter quite so much as he watched her walk slowly by his injured side, strangely unable to stop grinning. He wondered if he had that same idiotic expression. It was quite possible. Then people would undoubtedly guess whether they told them or not.

And most of those people still believed Haruhi to be a boy…

"What's up?" She asked, pausing just before the door to the third music room. "Did you remember something?"

"Not yet. But I'm sure it won't be long."

"Right." She nodded, grasping the door handle. "But, for now, don't worry too much about old memories; and let's build some new ones."

With that, before he could even answer, she pushed the door open and breezed in as if nothing had happened.

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A/N: And there we have it. Did you enjoy it? Will Fruiti-chan stop bothering me now:P Ha ha! Anyways, thanks for reading, everyone!


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